Tricky Puck: a Fake Fiancee Hockey Rom-Com (Portsmouth Whalers Hockey Romance)

Chapter 7

Reaching around her soft warmth, I pull the covers down on the bed and shift us to the sheets. She faces me as I circle my finger around her nipple and then run it down the seam of cleavage between her ample breasts. They’re heavy and round and perfect. And, most importantly, they’re natural with the kind of soft give only real breasts have.

“You enjoying yourself?” she asks.

“Immensely. You?”

“Keep going, big boy. You’re on the right track to giving me orgasm number… I don’t even know.” She laughs. “That’s crazy.”

“That’s skill,” I say, lowering my mouth to her nipple before she can call me out.

She responds with a moan instead, and my appreciation translates to my cock coming back to life in record time. Now, that’s crazy, even for me.

“Okay,” she whispers, holding my head, threading her fingers through my hair, and making me shudder in the process. “You have a point.”

“What’s that?” I say between nips of her nipple, and then I flick it with my tongue, making her gasp. “I wonder if I can make you come just by playing with your nipples.”

“Oh my God. I don’t know. Even as skilled as you are?—”

I lift my head and bring my face to hers, keeping myself a breath apart from her.

“Is that a challenge, I hear?”

She laughs, and her blue eyes spark. Her dark hair falls all around her face with one lock straying to her cheek, stuck there. I stroke her cheek and smooth the hair away, unsticking it while she smiles at me, thoroughly amused.

“Is that all you think about? Challenges and competitions and games and winning? Is that what athletes are all about?”

“There you go, evading the question again.” Our eyes are locked, and her expression softens as my thumb finds her other nipple and plays with it until it pebbles.

“What was the question?” Her voice is breathier than before.

I concentrate, though it’s getting harder to do in the orbit of her … whatever she has that holds me like gravity.

“The question is, are you challenging me to make you come by only playing with your breasts?”

“Is that a trick question? What happens if I lose the challenge?”

“You mean besides having another spectacular orgasm?”

“Yeah,” she half moans as I keep flicking her nipples, alternating between them, and she starts breathing heavier.

My answer should be we fuck all night until the sun rises, but there’s something else I want.

“I bet you I can make you come by playing with your nipples, and if I win, you…” I lower my mouth and suck hard on one nipple, holding her heavy breast and feeling the rapid beat of her heart.

“What?” The word is strangled, and she holds my head against her breast with a quaking hand until I lift it to look at her.

“If I win, you sing me a song.” I control my breathing, and my heart pounds in anticipation, though I have no idea why this is important to me. If she sings for me, I feel like I’m conquering something.

She meets my eyes, her dark lashes fluttering, causing the flash of her blue irises to appear and disappear like a strobe light, making my cock dance just watching her while I toy with her breast, my rough finger circling the tender skin of her areola as her chest heaves up and down.

I wait her out as she bites her lip, blinks, and finally nods.

“Is that a yes? For the record?”

She breathes a laugh and caresses my cheek. “Yes. You’re so?—”

She stops talking when I squeeze her breasts together with my hands, creating a world-class vision of cleavage, a sight I know I’ll never forget as she gasps. Then I bring my head down and draw my tongue along the crack as my thumbs find her nipples and simultaneously circle her nipples.

“Oh my God.” Her eyes close, and she runs her fingers through my hair.

“I’m just getting started, baby.” I don’t wait for her to respond; I rise to the challenge of pleasing her—and driving myself crazy in the process as I flick her nipples and then suck them in my mouth, one after another, while her breathing turns into panting, and she lets out a continuous stream of moans, bucking her hips to mine.

I keep my cock off her, though it’s not easy because I don’t cheat when I make a bet. Mostly, it’s a matter of pride. And one of those secret ambitions I’ve always harbored—to give a woman an orgasm this way.

“Link… God almighty… I’m so close.” I suck harder, and her hips jump, her thighs clenched together under me. My heart races faster, and I can feel the heat, beads of perspiration rolling down my face as I scrape my teeth against one engorged nipple.

“Link!” She yells my name, and I move to the other nipple and do the same. She’s writhing under me now, and my cock is jumping and too ready.

Moving my mouth over her mounds of hot, sensitive flesh, I bring it back to her more sensitive nipple and flick my tongue. She mews and bucks. I graze my teeth, and she calls out incoherently. Then I take her nipple between my teeth and bite down, not too hard, but with enough force for her to dig her hands into my scalp and scream.

“Link. Oh my God, I’m coming, I… “ She moans incoherently as she writhes, thighs clenched and knees crossed, shuddering.

Letting go of her breasts, I wrap my arms around her, licking her nipples, flicking her nipples until her breathing calms and her clenched muscles relax, coming down from the waves of her orgasm.

Moving over her, I take her face in one hand and kiss her. “That was beautiful, hot pants.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe you did that. Can’t believe I…” she shakes her head. Then she takes my face in her hands and kisses me passionately, with feeling, a different kind of kiss than the flirting kind or the foreplay kind. I have no idea what this kiss is about except that it feels good.

And whatever her intentions are, the effect on me is predictable. My cock twitches.

“I want to fuck you, Delaney.” So bad. But I can’t say that. I shouldn’t even feel that, but there’s an element of desperation in me to own her pussy, to fill her and claim her.

“I want you to fuck me, Milano.” She smiles. “Does that mean you don’t want me to sing after all?”

“Not on your fucking life. You’ll sing me a song.” I rise from the bed and find my pants as she watches me. “After we?—”

“Don’t say it. I get the picture.”

I find the condom in my wallet and open it. “You getting squeamish, hot pants.” I’m no longer smiling because her answer is important. I get back in bed and kneel between her legs, watching her as I open the foil packet.

“No. I want you. Badly.”

That admission stops me mid-motion as I’m rolling the condom down my shaft. Studying her face, her eyes tell me that she’s serious as fuck. My heart stutters and then pounds harder than before.

“I know how you feel,” I whisper, lowering myself on top of her, kissing her swollen lips, stroking a finger through her wet pussy, and then bringing the tip of my cock to tease her clit.

Her hips hitch up, and she wraps her arms around my shoulders, lifts her legs to wrap around my back, and kisses my chin, my mouth, and my jaw.

Does she know how seductive she is? My cock is so full and hard—ready now. I take my time pushing inside her tight channel as it sucks me in, clamping around me as I shudder with a pleasure more intense than I’ve ever felt.

“You...feel so fucking unbelievable.” I growl the words as I move, my breathing uneven, my heart stampeding. Beads of sweat form and fall as I slide in and out, watching her, and she matches my movements.

“Ditto,” she whispers, catching her bottom lip in her teeth.

I bring my mouth down to hers and taste her lips, her mouth, and the sweet warmth of her drives me faster and faster until tension coils tight and rises up my cock. I pound into her, and her eyes flutter, and I move a hand down between us to flick her clit with my thumb, sensing how close she is.

“Come for me, baby. I’m close.” I grit the words out, barely holding back.

“Yes, yes, Link… I’m… Aah.” Her voice rises and stops abruptly as her body convulses around me, squeezing the orgasm from my cock as I thrust inside on an anguished groan of pleasure as I explode, pumping wave after wave of my release.

Holding her, I tighten my arms, feeling her shudders mingling with mine and obliterating whatever reality exists outside our two bodies here and now, knowing this is the holy mother fucking grail of blissful experience.

While we both try to get control of our breathing as we come down and the grip of epic pleasure eases, I can’t loosen my hold, can’t comprehend how and why sex never felt like this before.

I don’t want to think about what that means. Shaking my head, I insist it means nothing except that I’m a lucky bastard to have found this kind of unmatched chemistry with a woman. It was bound to happen eventually, right?

So what? It doesn’t mean anything. Certainly not that I should marry—it doesn’t mean Delaney is... This is just sex. Like always, except better.

Loosening my arms from around her, I separate us and get out of bed to take care of the condom. When I return to bed, I find her sunk into her pillow with the covers pulled over her. A smile automatically tugs at my face, and I twist it into a smirk to regain control.

“Time to pay up,” I say, enjoying her eye roll because it’s forced, and she’s still reluctant to sing.

“Don’t get too excited. I told you I’m not a singer.” She pushes up, and I get into bed with her. We sit up against the headboard with all the pillows bolstering us.

“What do you want to hear?” She looks at me with her brilliant blue eyes and not a bit of nerves.

“I admire how brave you are to face your fears without flinching.” I don’t know why the heck I tell her this, but it’s true. It’s how I feel—which makes no sense since I’m not in the habit of sharing feelings, am I?

Mostly because I don’t usually have feelings to share.

But I’m a straight-talking person, and that’s all this is about.

“Wow, that’s just what a girl wants to hear after having multiple epic orgasms with a guy.” She’s half smiling, and her sarcasm sounds shallow this time. Is she having feelings?

No. What the hell? We aren’t the kind to have feelings.

“It was epic for me, too,” I say, my voice deepening.

“Good to hear,” she says in a breathy voice. We stare at each other for a few blinks, and I hold my thoughts still along with my breath. No need to overthink this, no matter what my cock is telling me. It’s just a stupid cock.

Then she shakes her head, and the staring contest ends.

“I’ll sing “Yesterday”—the Beatles song,” she says and clears her throat.

I watch her, and she doesn’t look away as she starts singing.

“Yesterday…all my trouble seemed so far away…” The words float from her mouth, beautiful and melodious, with perfect pitch and with feeling, like she’s experiencing the words as she sings them to me. I listen, mesmerized, and I don’t realize my heart is racing until she stops at the end of the song.

It takes a few beats of absolute silence for me to respond.

“That was beautiful, Delaney. Your voice is?—”

She turns the smile that pops onto her face into an eye roll and pulls away when I reach out to touch her face.

“My voice is mediocre.” She shrugs. “But thank you for your kind words. You’re so sweet?—”

“Are you out of your mind? The last thing I am is sweet—or kind. You legitimately sing like an angel.”

She laughs, and I wonder why she’s determined to minimize her singing talent.

“You’re far too easily impressed. You must still be under the influence of Pappy Van Winkel—and good sex.”

“You mean fantastic sex, don’t you? Maybe I’m no expert, but your voice strikes a chord in me. I think it’s beautiful and full and rich, and you have perfect tone.”

“How would you know all this? Are you a closet musician?”

“No, but I once had a crush on my music teacher.”

“What grade? Please don’t tell me high school.”

“Second. She was the love of my life, and I blame her for spoiling me for women ever since. She’s the real reason I’ll never find a woman good enough to settle down with.”